The Christmas elf diet: I definitely wasn’t Santa’s little helper!
After seeing a picture of herself bulging out of a homemade elf costume, Gemma Romsey made a Christmas promise to herself…
Gazing at myself in the mirror, my eyes filled with tears. ‘This was a mistake,’ I realised, as I took in my rounded body, straining against the green and red material.
It was Christmas 2013, and I was on my way to our annual party. When we’d decided on a ‘Hollywood’ theme, I’d known instantly who I wanted to be – Buddy from my favourite festive film Elf.
Tipping the scales at 20st 2lb and barely squeezing into a size 26, I’d known I wouldn’t get into the ‘one size fits all’ costumes available online, so I’d ordered some brightly coloured cloth to make my own outfit.
The finished article had looked more like a tent than a dress, and even then it was a real struggle to get on. And now, looking at myself festooned with tinsel and wearing an elf hat, I felt like a prize pudding.
‘It’s too late now,’ I thought miserably as I left the house. ‘ You’ll have to make the best of it.’
Even as a child, I’d always been on the larger side, and over the years, I’d adopted a bubbly and outgoing personality just to disguise how self- conscious I was about my weight.
While other people would say their downfall was crisps or chocolate, I loved all food – and lots of it. So much so, I’d gained a stone every year since my teens.
Friends and family would tell me I had a lovely face, but all I could think was, ‘Shame about the rest!’
I’d look longingly at the regularsized sections of high-street shops from the plus-size area, and would leave changing rooms in tears because I was so disgusted by the way I looked.
When I met Scott, now 30, online in October 2011, I was a size 26, but he assured me it didn’t matter to him.
Most of the time, it didn’t matter to me either. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself.
So I plastered on a smile and joined my mum, Lisa, stepdad, Gary, and sister, Alex, to go to our friends Mel and David’s house, near where we lived in Bournemouth, Dorset.
When we arrived, Christmas tunes were already blaring and, as we played silly games, I forgot how awful I’d felt.
Mel had been in the kitchen for hours, preparing a traditional roast dinner. Crispy roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings… Delicious!
‘Smile!’ one of Mel’s daughters called, pointing the camera as we sat around the dinner table.
I felt so full from the meal, but managed to grin as she ‘clicked’.
Christmas was just another excuse to make the most of food, and that day was the first of many indulgences. I scoffed down mince pies, cheese and crackers, tins of chocolates, as well as glugging glasses of mulled wine and Baileys.
On New Year’s Eve, when we returned to Mel and David’s house, they had the camera out again. ‘Let’s see the Christmas pics,’ someone suggested. When we reached the one of me at the table, I flushed hot with embarrassment as I took in just how big I actually was.
‘I look hideous,’ I whispered to Scott, trying to hide my tears.
‘ You don’t,’ he tried to soothe. But there was no denying it, and I vowed to get my weight under control. I was finally going to beat the bulge. But it was far easier to say than to do. Over the next few months, I tried every diet in the book and even managed to get down to a size 18 when I married Scott in April 2016. But I realised that
nothing was working long term.
It was only when a friend recommended going to a National Slimming and Cosmetic Clinic in August 2016, that I finally got results. I spoke to a consultant about how much I relied on food and, ironically, how it was my only comfort whenever I felt bad about the way I looked.
In turn, they explained ways to limit calories, but still feel full, and how to exercise other than joining a gym, which I hated.
They also armed me with medication to suppress my appetite. I was nervous about taking tablets, but I was desperate.
At home, I overhauled my diet. I’d have healthy, homecooked meals, but rather than craving chocolate and crisps in between, I suddenly found I wasn’t bothered. Instead of waiting for the hours to pass until I could eat again, I was able to concentrate on other things. I didn’t completely deprive myself of treats, but I’d have them weekly, rather than daily, and made a rule not to use my car at weekends and started walking everywhere. Within my first week, I’d lost 11lb.
And that was just the start. In six months, I lost 7st 2lb and dropped seven dress sizes. Now I can slip into a size 14 with ease.
At 29, I feel better in every way. I have more energy and I’m more confident. And, after suffering from polycystic ovary syndrome for years, my hormone levels have returned to normal, so that Scott and I can fulfil our dream of having children when the time is right.
Now, I’m looking forward to Christmas. Not for the food, but to spend time with my friends and family.
It’s our turn to host the annual festive party, and I’d like to go as an elf again – only this time, I won’t have a Santa-sized belly.
‘I spoke to a consultant about how food was my only comfort when I felt bad about the way I looked’